


oblivion.

by courage_of_stars



Series: & i promise, we will not be a tragedy. [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Body Worship, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mental Health Issues, Period-Typical Homophobia, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27009097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courage_of_stars/pseuds/courage_of_stars
Summary: "Mark over the parts where they hurt me. Then mark over the rest of me."Marks don't last for long on their bodies. So, they create as many as they can. Layering scarlet over scarlet until there's a massacre of love bites.---(After the events of Merrick's lab, Joe and Nicky have a night alone together.)
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: & i promise, we will not be a tragedy. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021876
Comments: 8
Kudos: 123





	oblivion.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: trauma, graphic violence, body horror, torture, blood, (period-typical) homophobia, mental health, NSFW

Nicky means for the kiss to be gentle. Kind. Soft.

But sparks catch flame until there's a roaring wildfire in his veins. Nicky ensnares Joe's mouth with his. Brutal love shapes the kiss. Guided by Joe's fingers in weathered belt loops, Nicky pins the man up against the door. This is the only surrender they welcome. Nicky can never fight Joe's gravitational pull for too long-- it can be when they're painted in blood amidst another war, strapped to cold metal tables in a sadistic lab, or finding comfort in a quiet, ordinary hotel.

When death is out of their reach, it's tempting to ignore lungs aching for air. But Joe breaks the kiss. Not for oxygen. But for his lips that trace the well-loved path of Nicky's jawline. The lightest graze of teeth sets off a live wire of pleasure in Nicky. Joe echoes the gesture just to indulge in hearing his partner's secret sounds. A strained hiss. A breathless moan. Swears and pet names crackle like dazzling embers.

While Joe creates a garnet mark under the man's jaw, Nicky locks the hotel door. Metal clicks against metal. Weapons are laid down safely, but always within arm's reach. Nicky slides his hand under Joe's shirt to feel warm skin. The planes of the man's body are strong and solid. Not even the ghost of a blemish mars his form.

But memory is a strange thing. Once Nicky used to believe memory travels in a single direction. A simple path composed with a beginning, middle, and end. But whether it's because of perspective shaped by immortality, or something else all together, Nicky discovers that memory is not a linear path. Its nature is more of a circle. Layer after layer overlaps. And memory can be awfully stubborn. It refuses to be laid to sleep, or to be conveniently locked away in metal cages.

As the callouses of Nicky's hand map out the shapes of muscle, and the curves of vertebrae, memories blossom like cruel, parasitic flowers. Too many thorns. Not enough petals. Nicky has not forgotten a moment of time that stretched like an eternity in Merrick's labs. Woven into the experience are other moments of torture spanning across the ages.

And when his hand presses on Joe's skin, Nicky thinks he can see flickers of the future where there's no more warmth under his palm. Only a cold, lifeless corpse. Losing color by the second. And in those eyes Nicky has followed through darkness, the light begins to fade.

"I love you," Joe whispers as only the beginning. He recites those precious words and other phrases abundant with love in different tongues. For numerous centuries, Joe has professed his love in countless languages. The words brush at the blurry edges of a hickey, and reach behind Nicky's ear.

Nicky doubts he'll ever compare with Joe's way with words. But when Nicky says, "I love you, too," he sees Joe's eyes light up. In moments like these, Nicky feels that he must be doing something right. So, Nicky whispers it again. And then again. And he'll keep saying those words as many times his lover could want.

Because if anyone deserves all the good that exists in the universe, then it's this man.

Joe's warm, rich laughter interrupts a kiss when Nicky lifts him. The sound beckons a smile onto Nicky's face. Joe isn't a stranger to his partner's strength. But it still gets to him every time when Nicky carries the man.

"Well, now--" Joe wraps his arms and legs around Nicky. Fondly, he muses, "I suppose this is an improvement."

"From what?" Grinning, Nicky takes Joe to bed, and lays his partner down.

"You _know_ what." Joe rest his hand on the back of Nicky's neck. Fingers curl in soft brown hair. "You used to just throw me over your shoulder, and call it a day."

"Romantic, right?" Leaning down, Nicky's grin grows into a broad smile.

"Absolutely, my love," Joe whispers into the air between them. "Nobody has ever caught my heart like you."

Before Nicky can playfully call his partner an incurable romantic again, Joe meets Nicky halfway. Kissing like devouring. Hungry to taste what's pure in each other, so they can forget stinging acerbic metal.

Phantom traces of blood linger in their mouths as a bitter aftertaste. It's the remnants of choking on their own blood in Merrick's labs. They've endured too many Hells in this ceaseless lifetime. But the experience of being experimented upon remains raw and visceral. Unrelenting sharp instruments carving away at their bodies. Countless syringes piercing tired veins. Jolts of high voltage causing teeth to sink into tongues. But no torture compares with watching their partner bleed profusely, bite back screams, and suffer without end.

Ever since discovering Andy's condition, their fears multiply tenfold. Terrors grow so severe that they're caught in a loop of exponentially mutating.

Who will lose their immortality first?

Who will die first?

Who will leave the other behind first?

Anxiety. Fear. Dread. Trauma. Everything coagulates into a noxious poison that's impossible to swallow. Somedays, the poison corrodes at the inside of their mouths. Melting away gums, revealing cavern hollows in their cheeks. Other days, the poison is like a loose tooth that flares with pain, but their tongue keeps impulsively prodding at it.

Their bodies press flush until they feel wild, ferocious heartbeats. The men have been buried alive in the mayhem spanning over past few days. Tonight, Nicky and Joe finally reach the oasis existing in each other. Not only does Joe have a way with words that wavers between enchanting and bewitching. But his manner of kissing is so damned intoxicating that Nicky moans right into the man's mouth. Joe steals his breath. It's locked in a gilded cage, along with parts of Nicky's soul. Joe has no intent of freeing any of it. Nicky doesn't mind. Joe has already taken his heart, and Nicky knows it's in good hands.

Against the corner of his lover's mouth, Nicky murmurs, "Darling."

Nicky feels the heat of Joe's blush accompanied by the curve of a smile. It doesn't matter how many centuries pass. They're both still weak for affection, and notorious for getting flustered. The craving for something softer grows over time. It balances out the quiet, simmering melancholy of being warriors for so long. They have no resentment over being pulled into battle after battle. Where the world needs them, Nicky, Joe, and their family-in-arms will be there. But there's no denying how heavy the armor can be.

When it's only them, the weapons and armor are given rest. Together, Nicky and Joe can breathe. As Joe kisses Nicky to remind the man that he's more than a soldier, a machine-- Nicky feels himself falling.

Even when Joe spilled passionate poetry about unconditional love in front of Merrick's guards, Nicky was falling. Nicky doubts there will ever be an end to how deeply, how profoundly he can love this man. Back then, Nicky's blush wasn't noticeable, because of blood splatters and soot. But Joe must've seen the natural scarlet. There's nothing Nicky can hide from his other half. And he would never want to anyways.

One of the kinder things about being immortal is seeing changes for the better. Such as the world slowly growing more accepting of love. Nicky and Joe come from a time when men would be tortured, then killed for loving each other. Now, there are some streets where they can hold hands without heavy stones or vile words thrown their way. And when they see a beaming child run into the arms of two smiling women, both of them sharing rings-- Nicky and Joe are reminded that this world is still worth fighting for.

That speech in the cold vehicle was not only declaring war against the armed guards. But against the rest of the world who still condemns love. Someday, there will be a time when the world understands that love is love. Perhaps Nicky and Joe's immortality will run out before then. But in that vehicle, as they're being shipped off to Hell, Nicky and Joe believe that future will come true.

Nicky wishes he could engrave Joe's speech, and their kiss into his mind. Nothing else. But not only is memory strange. It has a volatile life of its own. Memory plays by nobody else's rules. Nicky can't edit out how a guard struck Joe's head with the end of his rifle. And he can't erase the sound of Joe's labored breathing echoing in the armored vehicle.

"Love, it's okay," Joe whispers softly. "I'm right here." He guides Nicky's hand onto his chest. "Alive." Joe's fingers fall into the space in-between his partner's. "With you."

Once Nicky feels the steady heartbeat under his palm, the man realizes he's shaking. "Sorry, I-" With an exhale, Nicky rests his forehead against Joe's. Quiet lulls in the room. The silence is filled by the sound of far-off cars passing by, and the ocean tides rippling faintly. "...I was scared," Nicky confesses under his breath. His voice shatters with the first word. It's nearly incoherent by the last. "I thought I was going to lose you. And I can't-"

"Do you remember where they hurt me?"

A dangerous, murderous light flickers in Nicky's eyes. "Yes." Scalpels and various surgical tools flash in the man's mind. Nicky dreads falling asleep. Inevitably, the traumatic memory of Merrick's labs will haunt the team through a collective nightmare. Including even Joe who will have to re-experience the trauma through Nicky's perspective.

Rather than locking up the savagery clawing out of his lover, Joe lures it more with a deep kiss. There's no hesitation as his teeth catch on Nicky's lower lip. "Mark over the parts where they hurt me." Whispered words flicker between kisses. "Then mark over the rest of me."

A subtle tremor runs through Nicky. He never ceases to marvel at how Joe understands exactly what he needs. Right now, Nicky's hungry to relearn Joe's body, brand every part of this man with devotion and love. Before his immortal life, so many have tried to tame Nicky. But Joe never clasps a muzzle on him, or tries to file down his fangs. Instead Joe bares his throat as an invitation to be claimed.

"Anything for you, love." After the last word leaves, Nicky dives in for Joe's throat.

First of many moans of the night break free. Joe unravels under his lover's starving mouth. Fingers calloused by war thread through Nicky's dusty brown locks. The lamp's dim, ambient rays catch on the strands, and bring out golden highlights.

For Joe to think of himself as a moth drawn to a flame isn't enough. Nicky is the sun, the closest human incarnate of Apollo. But he's also the ocean that catches Joe when waxen wings melt.

It's reminiscent of the first time Joe laid eyes upon this man. Standing on opposite sides of the battlefield. Taught to hate each other's people ever since they were brought into this world. And yet, Joe was taken by how the dying sun set the man's hair ablaze. Almost brilliant as the striking hues of those blue eyes. So vibrant and clear that Joe will never forget the color of the sky.

When teeth graze him, Joe tugs on his partner's hair. His other hand slides under the slate grey shirt, and roams across Nicky's strong, broad back. One mark after another horizontally makes their way across Joe's neck. The love bites follow the path of a scalpel wielded by a scientist, disguising cruelty and sadism in the name of evolutionary progress, slitting across Joe's throat, curious to see how Joe would heal, or if Joe would even survive. The pain was beyond excruciating.

But nothing hurt like Nicky screaming at the scientists to stop, to lacerate his throat instead, to rip out his vocal chords if they wish, swearing up a storm in a dozen languages, limbs burning raw while fighting against the restraints, watching with torrid guilt.

"I love you-- fuck, I love you- _I love you--_ " 

Nicky mirrors the same words Joe uttered as vermillion cascaded down, blood flooding his mouth and throat. If by chance Joe dies, he will always make his last words for his lover. His partner. His other half.

Every time Joe hears those three words gasped, a throe resonates in his chest. Joe's fingers tighten in Nicky's hair. He gives those words back. Spoken with fiercer love each time his tongue strikes the roof of his mouth. The phrase weaves in with Joe's stream of consciousness. Joe describes it as _'lovesick rambling.'_ Nicky describes as _'fucking sexy poetry.'_ Words burn across the raw, tender marks of rouge, and untarnished skin of bronze. 

Most, if not all, of these marks will fade away by tomorrow morning. Same goes for any scratches, bites and bruises to be traded tonight. Ephemeral. Fleeting. But never unfelt or forgotten. They want everything even if their skin will be bare by sunrise.

As Nicky unbuttons Joe's shirt, he marks down the well-defined torso. Shades of red overlap in chaotic artistry. "I swear to every deity that if anyone hurts you again, I will kill them twice over."

It's not a bluff. It's a promise. Anyone else may be frightened by what sounds like a man waging war against the world. Perhaps even the entire universe. And dimensions out of reach. But endearment colors every note of Joe's breathless laughter. He takes those words as a declaration of love.

"And you've seen what I've done to those who make you bleed." Joe's thumb runs across a cheekbone. Its curve is memorized. Same goes for every angle and plane of his lover's face. Joe knows this face so well that he can sculpt its likeness in the dark. "They deserve no mercy."

The fierce protectiveness ignites a shudder in Nicky. Both of them were warriors before death became null. And they remained warriors ever since. But even when they hold mastery over weapons, and combat is like second nature, Nicky and Joe still protect each other. Nicky remains abysmal at expressing how he enjoys being taken care of. The man even craves it. Luckily, Joe knows. Nicky's heart swells so greatly that it leaves his chest aching. And in this case, arousal slams harder. Desire grows to paramount heights. Grinding their hips together, Nicky elicits another moan from his partner. Sound waves honeyed in lust and love stoke Nicky's hunger even more.

As eager as they are to touch and claim, Nicky and Joe take their time undressing each other. Not because the men have all the time in the world. But Nicky and Joe savor these moments when given the chance to rediscover their partner's body. Their hands are gentle on each other. 

After the last bit of fabric falls away, they melt into the warm touch of their bodies. Nicky gradually makes his way down. Scarlet and rouge trail over Joe's torso and hips. While darkening more of Joe's inner thighs with marks, Nicky coats his fingers. It doesn't matter how many times they've made love, or if physical injury never lasts-- preparation is always done with utmost care. To make someone feel the throes of lust is one thing. But to make someone feel respected in their body is like nothing else.

Those clever fingers play just the right strings, and draw a sharp swear out of Joe. Nicky smirks against the edge of a hickey on Joe's thigh. It's riveting to chip away at his lover's composure. Slowly, Nicky begins lavishing attention on the hard cock. Roaring white noise of fears and anxieties quiet down in Nicky's mind. His ears only listen to Joe's faintly slurring words, and the staccato hitches in his breathing.

Eons ago, Nicky stopped caring about if he's too deeply enamored with cockworshipping his partner. It's always been an emotional experience from the first time Nicky gave devotion with his mouth. Nicky's addicted to the feel, the weight, the taste of this perfect, thick shaft. His tongue chases after veins to memorize the beating pulse. After lapping languidly from the base to the head, Nicky takes his lover into his mouth. A low moan sends an onslaught of vibrations around the cock.

But what Nicky's addicted to the most is Joe-- his praises and swears in a dozen tongues, calloused fingers tugging at Nicky's hair, handsome face stricken with pleasure. For them, intimacy is a reprieve from the madness raging in this planet. Nicky will do every damned thing to make Joe feel good.

"Sweetheart. My god- Fuck--" Joe swears under his breath as Nicky's long lashes flutter from hazy pleasure. There's even a glimpse of blues rolling. Joe tightens his grasp in the man's hair. "So perfect. That's what you are, love. Always ridiculously, bloody perfect." Joe swears louder when fingers curl inside again. "Darling--" He can barely take in a breath. The pleasure burns blistering hot. "If you fuck me hard, I'll fuck you harder."

Suddenly, Nicky has Joe pinned on the bed, torso down, wrists secure behind his back in a bruising grip. Joe moans at both his partner's physical prowess, and the hard cock throbbing against his ass.

"Ready?" Nicky needs to make sure before going further. 

Joe turns his head for a kiss. He smiles as it's given without hesitation. "Yeah, love--" His voice melts into a deep groan as Nicky eases inside. 

Lips burn against Joe's right shoulder. A place where scalpels incised. Determined to remake it into a place of love, Nicky sinks his teeth in. Every sound from Joe rings wantonly. Once Nicky's all the way in, they stay still. Just to take in the sensation of being close, connected, safe, and loved. This intimacy feels almost too colossal for their bodies.

Then Joe starts moving his hips. Sinfully. Joe doesn't need to tell Nicky to not treat him fragile. His partner knows Joe craves roughness, especially after clawing their way out of another Hell. Nicky falls into rhythm with Joe. The brutal, passionate pace is punctuated with Nicky slamming relentlessly. Only Joe can match Nicky's intensity. There's no hesitation as Joe fucks back on his partner's hard shaft. 

"Fuck- Darling--" Panting, Nicky watches with dilated eyes. The man sits up on his knees, so he can take in the deliriously arousing sight. Violence and beauty are both in Joe, and it even shows through his fucking. "So damned good for me. Fuck yourself on my cock. Keep going, love."

A low groan reverberates through Joe. It sets off a chain reaction of rippling muscles. He'll always be weak for Nicky's praise. It carries hints of verbal filth that arouses both of them. With heightened enthusiasm, Joe moves his hips faster.

Joe inhales sharply when Nicky slaps his ass, then roughly kneads it. There's more sound than impact to the hit. If Nicky gave a hard strike, Joe would endure it through his high pain tolerance. But Nicky doesn't do that. They've already experienced so much pain for centuries. Instead Nicky keeps the hits fairly light-- and follows through with the fucking filthiest, shameless grinding. The friction of that perfect cock inside Joe shuts down braincells one by one. 

Joe doesn't recognize what he's saying. It seems like every time Nicky wrecks him, Joe creates a new language. Enough words to fill thousands of books upon thousands of shelves. Arousal sears through Joe's veins when Nicky wraps a hand around his throat. Nicky guides Joe away from the bed, and towards the tall standing mirror. They stand with Nicky supporting most of Joe's weight. His thumb strokes over the jawline.

"Look at you." Nicky stares at the mirror. "So fucking beautiful." With each word, Nicky's voice plunges into deeper octaves. "And all mine."

Joe watches their reflection as Nicky bites into his throat. Vicious arousal strikes them like white lightning. Moaning wantonly, Joe presses Nicky's head closer, urging for the man to break skin. Nicky gives Joe what he wants by sinking his teeth in. All while each thrust grows stronger than the last. Heated gazes lock in the reflection. Blues and browns share the same darkness blown out by lust.

"Yours," Joe gasps as he fucks back. He tugs at light umber hair. Between his fingers, the strands almost burn like liquid gold. "All yours."

"Damn right, love." Nicky turns them, so the couple sees their profile in the mirror. He lightly hits Joe's ass. Nicky's moan mixes with his lover's as Joe tightens.

During endless spasms of pleasure, it's hard for Joe to focus his gaze on anything. But in a blurry moment, Joe sees Nicky-- his eyes tightly closed, face stricken with too many emotions to be named. Joe can feel the ruthless hurricane inside Nicky's ribcage, because Joe carries a thunderstorm inside his own. 

Before they lower themselves on the ground, Nicky grabs the blankets, and throws them down. The softer material is better to kneel on than the hardwood floor. Warmth fills Joe's chest at the kind gesture.

Only for each other will ever they kneel down. There have been times in the past when enemies demand them to get on their knees. A megalomaniac tyrant outraged by their rebellion as they free captives. A commander of an army attempting to raid a country. A night guard repulsed by their closeness in a prison cell.

To all of them and more, Nicky and Joe would not kneel. It's led to heavy boots slamming on legs until bones splinter. The harsh strike of a rifle across the temple, blood trailing down to reach the corner of their mouths as they collapse on the ground. Bullets shattering knees, lodging into thighs. Mankind's capacity for cruelty is vast and endless.

But nobody has earned the right to their surrender except each other. When Nicky's hand lightly grasps around Joe's throat, their faces tilt for a kiss. Joe savors the hint of salt from Nicky's tears. The kiss remains unbroken as Nicky reaches climax. It deepens while Joe drinks in every gasp, every moan, every whispering of his name. Nicky holds onto Joe tighter. His mouth drifts to feel the beating jugular vein in Joe's throat.

While shuddering tremors leave Nicky, their bodies part. It's Joe's turn to carry his lover to bed.

Nicky laughs into the hollow of Joe's clavicle. "Not gonna throw me over the shoulder?"

With a wry grin, Joe lays Nicky down. "Do you want me to?"

"Next time."

In Nicky's smile, Joe sees the promise those two words hold. The men catch their breaths together with lips and hands wandering slowly. While Joe prepares his partner, he continues to take his time. Nicky's head falls back into a mess of aurelian brown locks. Staring at the ceiling, Nicky blinks away tears. Vulnerability spills through every crack and crevice. With Joe, this vulnerability feels like warm summer rain. Something cleansing, gentle, and honest. It still astounds Nicky how Joe can show something good exists inside of him.

Moans fall into the kiss as Joe sinks inside. Nicky wraps his legs around the man to pull him in closer. The pace starts off slow and steady, but maddeningly intense. Joe drives his cock inside deep. Not once does Joe take his eyes off his partner. He gauges every reaction, no matter how nuanced.

"Darling, _fuck--_ " Nicky exhales with eyes closed. He revels in the sensation of Joe's thick, hard cock throbbing inside of him. When Joe buries inside to the hilt, Nicky grinds without shame.

"Just like that, love. Doing so well." Joe caresses the man's sides. He stays still as Nicky's sensual grinding grows faster, more frantic. It grows into desperate motions. Joe kisses behind the man's ear. "Let go, Nicolò. I've got you."

Nicky lets out a sound only for Joe's ears. Just like how his submission's only revealed for Joe's eyes. While gripping his partner's shoulder, Nicky moves his hips in a frenzy. A deep groan reverberates inside Joe's body. He loves seeing Nicky lose control like this, and surrender to his carnal instincts. After lightly striking his partner's ass twice, Joe's hands roughly massage the flesh. Breath hitching in pleasure, Nicky leans into the touch. Joe teases the man's sensitive chest.

"Fuck--!" Nicky hisses while closing his eyes. A barely audible whimpers follows.

"It should be sin how pretty you sound," Joe muses in a murmur. When he takes a hardened nipple into his mouth, Nicky makes more noise. "Louder, sweetheart. I want to hear you more than-" _'your screams of pain when they dissected you alive, cracked open your sternum, prying apart rib bones, and excavated your organs. Just to see how long it would take for you to heal. But even healing is a painful ordeal. And the traces of pain linger in the mind once the last bits of flesh stitch together. I am not afraid of feeling your pain. But by the gods and goddesses, I don't want you to hurt, to suffer, to be afraid, you should never need to scream until losing your voice anymore-'_

"Yusuf. Stay with me. I'm here."

Nicky calling his name shatters Joe's train of thought. Joe almost feels his lungs collapse from the enormity of his love for this man. Wanting to thank his partner for anchoring him, Joe thrusts deeper. His hand cradles the side of Nicky's face. Desperately, Nicky moves and swivels his hips. Whatever Nicky pleads for muffles when he takes Joe's fingers into his mouth. To his awe, Joe sees Nicky's eyes dilate even more while the man's wrecked with pleasure.

"I'm not going anywhere." Even if fear weighs in his heart, Joe still makes the promise. "I love you."

Without warning, Nicky shifts them upright, so he's straddling Joe. He keeps worshipping Joe's hand while riding him. Joe leans back on pillows propped up against the headboard. While gripping the headboard's upper edge, Nicky lifts and slams his hips. Desire, friction and pleasure build with no end.

The tenderness of Joe's mouth on his throat makes Nicky's heart waver. It's the same tenderness Joe gives to flowers when he presses the petals between book pages. Nicky would wrap his arms around Joe from behind, rest his chin on the man's shoulder, and watch Joe meticulously place each petal with care. While pressing petals, Joe would teach Nicky about the language of flowers.

An ache strikes deep in Nicky's chest. Sometimes, it's overwhelming how much he loves Joe. But nothing is overpowering as the way Joe loves him. This man has literally burned an entire building down to save Nicky. More than once Joe's scorched his hands while pulling Nicky out of the flames-- figuratively and literally.

But Joe also professes his love outside of violent times. When the weight of eternal life bears down like a curse, and trauma tightens like an invisible noose-- Joe is there. Always. Whether it's bringing Nicky's favorite brew of coffee to bed. Or caressing his hand while they sit on the bathroom floor. Or holding Nicky in museums that feel more like mausoleums.

Or in this moment as Joe kisses every moan, every sob, every _'I love you'_ right out of Nicky's mouth. This climax transcends merely a physical experience. It leaves them wrecked, undone, connected, beautiful. As Nicky runs his hand down Joe's side, fingers chase like blazing comet tails. Between melding lips, the lovers exchange three words in a hundred languages.

* * *

The hotel room has no view of the ocean. But they can hear the waves calling for them. Nicky and Joe take their time cleaning up, and catching their breaths. Warm laughter harmonizes with falling water in the bathroom. After throwing some clothes on, the couple heads outside.

Nicky takes comfort in wearing one of Joe's button down shirts. Maybe he's biased, since he bought this shirt for Joe. But Nicky genuinely enjoys the fabric's shade of pale blue. Eager to go to the oceanside, Nicky buttoned it up in a rush. The top few buttons remain undone. It's not until their bare feet touch the sand that Nicky looks down, and realizes the buttons are mismatched.

Before Nicky can fix the buttons, Joe grasps his hand, and laces their fingers together. Nicky leaves the buttons alone. With hands clasped, they walk along the sea. Tonight, the moon is kind. Its pallid rays guide their way across the sand. Everything's painted in a shade of almost colorless indigo. The ocean calls out with a song.

Until Nicky breaks the sea's lullaby with a confession.

"I kept asking why I didn't die."

Something collapses in on itself in Joe's chest. The words leave Joe with a crater. A void. It fills with nothing, but glacier cold fear. Joe holds Nicky's hand tighter. The sand whispers beneath their feet as they keep walking.

"Maybe we're all thinking that." Nicky's voice trails off towards the end. "I can see it in their eyes." Their team, their family that Nicky has grown to love and protect. He will slaughter a thousand men to keep them safe. Just as how they came to Nicky and Joe's rescue in the labs.

"And when this--" Nicky's other hand gestures at the center of his chest. "When the- the feeling of _nothing_ gets heavy-- I ask myself that same question. But while we were in that damned lab, I realized something." Blue eyes lift from the sands to look ahead. Not another soul in sight by the ocean. It's only the two of them. "Even without immortality, I would still carry this nothingness. And that's okay."

"That's...okay?"

"Maybe all of us have some nothingness. It's not intended to be filled by another person. Or even another thing. Only by us." Nicky shrugs a shoulder. "Guess it could be that thing some people call 'self-love.' I'm not sure what I call it yet."

Nicky stops walking, and turns to look at Joe. The pale blue shirt billows from the sea's breeze.

"All I know is that you've given me peace like I've never known. And because of you--" Nicky's exhale trembles as he smiles. "I'm grateful to still be alive. So, I can love you today. And I can love you even more tomorrow." With a breath that fills his chest, Nicky declares, "I want to be here with you."

It's hard to see Nicky clearly when Joe's struck with newfound tears. "I want to be here with you too, darling." As Nicky's smile grows, Joe laughs softly. "I thought I was supposed to be the Shakespeare between us."

Nicky tilts his head with a wry grin. "Might've learned a thing or two from you." There was a time when Nicky used to take a thousand steps back. But tonight, Nicky takes a step forward. "And I've learned that the best things in life are worth fighting for. I don't mean only against armed men. But against--" Nicky breathes out quietly. "The storms in my mind."

Joe can't quite remember how to breathe. "What are you fighting for?"

Nicky gives his answer by getting down on one knee, and taking Joe's left hand.

Joe sobs-- it's loud, messy, pure.

And Nicky has never heard anything more beautiful.

Nicky smiles at his other half. "I know we've proposed to each other over a thousand times, and gotten married over a hundred times." Without taking his eyes off Joe, Nicky draws something out of his pocket. "But this time, I want to give you this."

Nicky holds up a ring. A silver band. Luminous under the moon's rays.

Joe's doing a terrible job of holding back more sobs. He's cried countless times when Nicky proposes. Or when he's the one proposing. But this is the first time a ring is being offered. They're living during an era that's a little kinder now. Not perfect. Still quite a ways to go. But a time when there's a handful of places where two men can freely wear matching rings. 

"Darling, will you marry m--"

The ring falls.

Into the sand.

And sinks.

While Nicky shouts, Joe throws his head back and laughs loudly. The warm, lively sound carries over the ocean waves. Joe lowers onto a knee to help Nicky dig through the sand. 

"You are truly, impossibly, undeniably adorable," Joe remarks with a grin.

"Don't tease." Nicky's beyond flustered. There's flickers of guilt and anxiety as well. "Fuck. I ruined everything-"

"Love, you ruined nothing." Joe catches Nicky's hand, and draws it out of the sand. Fine grains spill from their fingers. "All of this is perfect."

Before Nicky can protest, he sees the last traces of sand drain out of their hands. In Nicky's palm is the ring. Overwhelming relief floods in. Nicky looks up with hopeful eyes echoing the earlier question. With a smile, Joe answers:

"Yes."

Before Nicky can cry or laugh, Joe draws him in for a kiss. It's burning and bright like the stars above them. They have fought too hard, too fiercely, too bravely to be a tragedy. The wild beating of their hearts call for more than a swan song.

The kiss breaks only so Nicky can slide the ring onto Joe's hand. It fits perfectly. Joe surges in for another kiss. _"Yes, yes, yes-"_ Joe says breathlessly between kisses, echoing that word in every language he knows. Closing his eyes, Nicky presses his lips to the silver band on Joe's hand. When Nicky looks at Joe, there's a happy secret in those scintillated blue eyes. Joe catches his lover's emerging smile with another kiss. As their fingers intertwine, the ocean sings to them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! It's my first time writing for Nicky and Joe. I have a lot of love for them, so I just gave my heart to writing this piece. I'm grateful for any kudos and comments :') Stay safe and take care ♡♡♡
> 
> REFERENCES / INSPIRATION:  
> \-- Fic title: ['Oblivion (ft. Susanne Sundfør)' - M83](https://youtu.be/UjpbQ1OWMPE)


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